


paint dreams and cross galaxies

by oryx



Category: Uchuu Keiji Gavan | Space Sheriff Gavan
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 05:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12425544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oryx/pseuds/oryx
Summary: Retsu and the troublesome responsibilities that come with a promotion.





	paint dreams and cross galaxies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fusionmix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fusionmix/gifts).



Den’s smile is blindingly bright even through the screen.  
   
“This latest Madou plot has been dismantled, sir,” he says. “And the citizen who was taken hostage has been returned home safely. No need for any backup.”  
   
Retsu can’t help but smile a bit in return – a bemused quirk of the lips. Had he been this eager when he was a new recruit? He imagines he must have been. “Good work, Sharivan,” he says. “Any equipment issues the tech department should know about?”  
   
“None at the moment. I’ve sent over the recorded battle footage from my visor camera, plus Lilly’s basic write-up of the situation. I hope they might help in your report.”  
   
“I’m sure they will.” Retsu powers on the computer monitor to his right to find the files in question already waiting for him. “Dismissed, rookie. And don’t work too hard down there. Give yourself a break for a day, if you like.”  
   
“Understood, sir. Over and out.” Den snaps to attention and salutes smartly, and waits just a second too long in turning off the feed, as Retsu catches him turning away a moment later, saying “did you hear that, Lilly? He said ‘good work, Sharivan – ’” right before the video cuts out.  
   
Retsu has to stifle a laugh as he shuts off his end of the transmission.  
   
He stretches a bit in his seat before opening up the file of Sharivan’s battle footage, settling in to watch it with his chin propped on his knuckles, his other hand hovering over the pause and rewind keys. He can feel his eyes narrow as the recording continues. This “Madou Syndicate” struck him as odd, when it first appeared out of the blue. No one here at the Union base had ever heard the slightest whisper of such an organization, and yet here they were, fully formed and operational, with their sights set directly on Earth.  
   
And their tactics… Retsu can’t shake the sense of déjà vu as he slows the footage down to half speed to get a better look. Their strange, calculating schemes, the monstrous creatures they employ, the way reality itself seems to waver and change around them. They’re all things he’s seen before. If there is some connection between Madou and Makuu, then he can’t just rest on his laurels, can he? If Makuu still persists in some altered form, then his job is not done.  
   
He stops the video and leans back in his chair, fingers drumming restlessly against the desktop. _If I could just get down to Earth and do some investigative work of my own_ , he thinks, and the idea sits like a nagging weight in the back of his mind. The importance of writing up reports seems paltry when compared to the threat they’re facing, and Den is talented, yes – a natural, one might say – but he’s still green.  
   
And it’s not as if his superiors could _really_ complain about him ditching his duties as Captain, if he were to discover some vital information.  
   
Retsu is on his feet before he can ponder it much further.  
   
The trek down to the hangar is entirely uneventful, but still he feels awkward, as if the clerks and other staff who salute him as he passes somehow know his intentions. He purposefully skirts around the mechanics in the hangar who know him by name, feeling like a criminal as he slips through the gap in between two small maintenance ships, making his way into the Dolgiran’s imposing shadow. He takes the steps leading to its portside door two at a time, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder before inserting his key into the lock, and –  
   
The door slides open to reveal Mimi, standing there with an unimpressed set to her features and her arms folded across her chest.  
   
He almost falls off the steps, and has to grab the railing to steady himself.  
   
“Gavan,” she says, in that knowing tone of voice. “You’re not trying to skip out on work, are you?”  
   
He lifts a hand to palm the back of his neck, giving her a weak smile. “Well, you see,” he says vaguely, then falters. “Come on, Mimi. I’m not meant for desk jobs! You know that. I won’t be gone for long – I just need to hunt around a bit. See if I can find any clues. That sort of thing.”  
   
Mimi arches an eyebrow. “What, so you don’t trust that Sharivan boy to do it himself?”  
   
“That’s not what I’m saying.”  
   
“Well that’s what it sounds like.” Mimi sighs, rolling her eyes and taking something from her pocket – a data pad, which she holds out for Retsu to take and presses into his outstretched palm. “Here. This is something I found a little while back, and I _knew_ you would get like this at some point, so I’ve been carrying it around with me just in case. Maybe it’ll change your mind about all your new ‘less interesting’ responsibilities.  
   
“Come find me at the commissary when you’re finished with everything,” she adds with a wink, and promptly Vision Changes right before his eyes, fluttering away towards the hangar exit before he can say another word.  
   
Retsu stares after her, wide-eyed, then frowns down at the data pad in his hand. It’s a bit out-of-date, technology-wise – the sort of thing he might find in the Archives adjacent to the Commander’s office. He taps the screen and the holo-projection of the text flickers to life with a quiet whir.  
   
_A Complete Account of the Battles, Arrests, & Cases of Space Sheriff Voicer, active 1487 AU – 1503 AU. Current Status: ~~Missing In Action~~ Deceased._  
   
Retsu’s grip around the data pad tightens.  
   
He sits aboard the Dolgiran as he pages through the files, the ship dark around him, lit only dimly by auxiliary power. The play-by-play reports of his father’s battles are so detailed, so vivid, that when he closes his eyes he feels almost as if he were there – as if he could see in perfect clarity the arc of his father’s blade, and hear the threats spoken by the enemy, and taste the alien air of distant planets. Each mention of Hunter Killer makes a wave of fresh resentment burn hot beneath his skin, but he finds himself smiling, too, at the frequency in which the writer calls his father’s actions “reckless.” He wonders how many times that word appears in his own reports.  
   
A thought strikes him, then, and with a tense feeling in his chest he scrolls hastily through the list of entries until he reaches the final one. He skims over the text, eyes zeroing in on the very last lines.  
   
_Voicer and Hunter will soon (est. 3 days) be departing down to Earth to investigate the activities of the Space Crime Syndicate Makuu._  
   
Retsu can hear his own pulse pounding in his ears. That anyone could have written this so calmly, that no one suspected, that they all somehow missed the signs. It’s not their fault, and yet. It’s frustrating, enraging, to look back on this while knowing the outcome. He goes to tap the power off button, but realizes at the last moment there is still one paragraph left to read.  
   
_Sheriff Voicer has requested a short leave of absence after this next assignment is complete, citing that he wishes to spend time with his wife and son. Upper management has already granted his request due to excellent service and work ethic in the line of duty._  
   
Retsu stares down at those words, all of the anger seeming to leave him in an instant, like the tide ebbing away from the shore. His shoulders relax, hands unclenching slowly at his sides.  
   
He takes a breath and presses the heels of his palms against his prickling eyes.  
   
  
   
  
   
Mimi waves to him from across the commissary. She’s sipping at a hot starberry tea when he joins her at the table, and she smiles at him shrewdly over the rim of her mug.  
   
“That was fast. Don’t tell me you haven’t started yet.”  
   
“I haven’t,” Retsu says, giving her a quietly amused look in return. “But I will, once I get back to my desk.” He huffs out a laugh. “You know, I’m still hoping they’ll order me down there where the action is, but… The Account of Space Sheriff Sharivan, huh?” He pauses; glances out the window, past the glittering green glass highrises of the capital to the expanse of stars beyond. “I think I’d like to be the one to write it.”


End file.
